It started when I called Death Cab’s music genre “minstrel rock.” Now we joke about it as a mystical place where women are banished once a month. Today I told our designer that she couldn’t leave until our brochure passed the standards of sexy. She said of course. I wouldn’t dare breathe without your permission. She told me she was at wit’s end.
I asked her how far Wit’s End is from Minstrel Rock.